A Cool Kind of Crazy
by ImpossibleNine
Summary: Wavering on the borderline between madness and sanity, Soul Eater Evans must fight the very academy that made him who he was, in order to recover the meister that may not even want him anymore.
1. Prologue

Black blood beaded between the cracks in the brick, before cutting eerie paths down the walls like blood in a murder scene. Soul clenched the sides of his head, bent over, with scarlet eyes squeezed shut. He groaned, jagged teeth clenched. _Go away_, he thought. _You're not real._ Images of the black and red room flashed through the weapon's mind, before fading back beneath the surface of his thoughts. Soul opened one eye, to glance at the apartment walls, now bare and plastered with bright white light from the moon peering in from outside.

"Not cool," he grumbled, straightening up and glancing around the room. Everything was just as it had been left. Messy and untidy. He had told himself Maka would get it. It didn't look that way any time soon. Soul sauntered into his bedroom, legs giving way as he sat on the edge of the bed, fumbling with his dress shirt buttons.

Maka and he had fought a witch in France only about a week ago. Both had been injured in the fight, Maka more so than himself. The black blood Soul used in the fight allowed his injuries to heal much faster. However, it also prohibited Soul from discerning whether his experiences he saw and heard were reality or if they were warped by the black blood. The DWMA had taken Maka away, sent her off with a new weapon, believing Soul to be too unstable to fight with Maka anymore.

And he had believed her to be gone the whole time. Soul had done some crazy things to try to get her back, things he regretted looking back on it. Mere minutes ago he had agreed to remain under the radar for a while, in return for his death scythe status returned and pardon from previous wrong-doings.

The crimson shirt dropped to the floor silently, as the shoes he had worn clattered when he tossed them, hitting the wall. Soul had agreed to acting docile and quiet for a while, but, when he was not allowed to see his meister ever again, how could he? There were plans behind all his actions. All of them. And if everything followed through like it was supposed to, then Maka would be back to him soon. Soul collapsed back into his pillow, staring at the ceiling. He had said that phrase numerous times, repeated it to himself constantly in his head, but it felt different after the events of that night, fighting Kid in Hook Cemetery.

Soul rolled over, facing the only window in his bedroom. It was still and quiet outside, which was quite normal for midnight. Blair would be home soon, and if she knew he was awake, then the weapon would likely get smothered in another mass of fabric and cleavage. The latter dominating. Soul closed his eyes. Tomorrow was when the Maka Recovery Plan began.


	2. My Man's Gone Now

Author's Note: Be sure to check out the prequel, "A Missing Meister and a Woeful Weapon"!

* * *

It is said there are five stages to the loss of a loved one. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. And Maka was stuck at stage one.

"We got a mission in an hour!" her new weapon called through the other side of the door.

"I know!" she replied, sitting on the bed with legs held close to her chest and thin arms wrapped around them.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"No!" she yelled, resting her head on her knees, the warm tears of loss still flowing freely from her reddened eyes. The weapon outside hesitated for a moment.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I said so!" she yelled back, wiping away the rivulets of sorrow running down her face.

He sighed. "When you're done being an emotional woman meet me down in the lobby. I took your wallet earlier; I need it for the buffet."

"I don't care!" she yelled, pressing her forehead against her knees, more tears spilling down her face.

"Whatever," he mumbled, disappearing down the hallway. Maka sighed a shaky breath as his soul response departed, descending down the hotel's elevator. Curse that stupid jerk. The DWMA had tried too hard to partner her with someone similar to Soul. Her new scythe was an idiot, and he put up a tough cold personality. He said 'whatever' far too much and did not consider her feelings in anything. He yelled the commands, she did her best to follow.

"Soul," her voice quivered, shaking in the isolated loneliness of her hotel room. Having her own hotel rooms. She had specifically asked for two rooms, just so she would be able to sleep. Far away from that creep. Thank Lord Death that the hotel could accommodate last minute. The DWMA, or perhaps it was Kid, had reserved only one room for the partners. With Soul, that would have been fine, they had once shared a bed because the hotel messed up with their reservation. But with the new boy, she did not even want to be in the same room.

"Why did you leave me?" she asked, voice trembling between shaky breaths. Why did he die and leave her alone with this stupid jerk. Kid had told her the full story. Soul carried her out of the catacombs, he collapsed in the street, and both had been rushed to the hospital when a stranger called an ambulance. Soul died of blood loss, his heart had failed while in the hospital.

Maka did not remember being transported back home after that. But that was where she woke. Then Papa had died. While she had been away on a mission he had drunk too much alcohol, and taken a few pills in addition to it. She went to the funeral, and remembered seeing white hair tucked beneath a hat in the front row. But Kid had told her it was Wes, standing in place of his brother at the funeral. She had not been allowed to talk to him.

Sure, Maka had been sad, but she had gotten to the acceptance stage relatively quickly for her father. Mama had called, and they had talked, and Maka had reassured her that she was okay. Mama didn't know Soul had died, though. And with him, Maka felt like part of her own soul had departed. Maka shakily pushed herself off the bed, staggering across the room in wobbly steps. None of that was supposed to matter now.

As soon as she resonated with her new weapon, she would not even be compatible with the deceased Soul anymore.


	3. Witchcraft

"Good morning, Soul," Blair purred, laying on top of the weapon's body. "Did you sleep well my little scythe-y boy?"

"Blair?" Soul blinked through bleary eyes.

"Of course I am, sweetie! Who else would it be?" she beamed as Soul sat up. She threw her arms around the weapon's neck, pulling him closer. "Are you ready to play with Blair today?"

Soul blinked twice, not ready to deal with sexual advances this early in the morning. "How uncool," he mumbled, swinging his feet to the side of the bed.

"But Soul!" Blair called, pressing her chest against his back. "Why won't you ever play with me! Blair is lonely!"

"Don't you have work or something?" Soul asked irritably, scratching his messy bedhead as he trudged towards the doorway.

"Abs-nya-lutely! But I took the day off today. I thought you would be so lonely without Maka dear around."

A grin fueled by black blood overtook Soul's face as he paused in the doorway. Perfect. "Why don't you make breakfast then?" he suggested casually.

"Breakfast? What a great idea!" Blaire declared, jumping up with excitement. "It'll be ready in a few minutes, okay?"

"Mhm," Soul mumbled, disappearing into the bathroom. The lock clicked behind him (Shinigami knows what the cat woman would have done if he had not) and Soul began to examine himself in the mirror. One finger pulled back his mouth to examine the sharp teeth he probably should have brushed more often. Fatigued red eyes blinked back at him in the reflective wall. Soul leaned back to examine the scar that cut across his well-toned chest. All looked normal.

Clothes silently dropped to the floor as Soul stepped into the warm shower. Showers were the only things Soul did not want to be cool. The water drummed against Soul's shoulders as his hair became plastered to his face, and Soul closed his eyes, drenching himself in the warmth.

When he thought about it, Soul realized he had not showered in a while.

Gross.

Maka's absence had reduced him to nothing more than a manly slob.

Soul opened his eyes to stare at the white tiles of the bathroom, neat and sparkling from the last time Maka had cleaned. _Hey Soul_, a voice said, interrupting his thoughts.

Oh hell no, the weapon thought, throwing aside the shower curtains. And there he was. The little demon from within Soul's mind, standing on the toilet seat, in his dumb little suit.

"What the hell? Not cool, man," Soul glared.

"Miss me, Soul?" the demon asked.

Soul took a deep breath, closing his eyes again. "I'm crazy, I'm crazy, I'm crazy, I acknowledge I'm crazy. The little guy isn't ther—."

"Soul."

"He's made up. My mind's crazy. There is not a little man watching me shower right no—."

"Soul."

"Gone. He's gone. Gone. I'm imagining this whole conve—."

"Soul!"

"Can a cool guy shower in piece!?" Soul demanded.

"Fine, fine," the little demon stated dismissively, waving a hand. "But I'm just here to ask why you've been ignoring me lately."

"Yeah I have. So?" Soul asked irritably, ready to throw the shampoo bottle at the mirage.

"I'm going to consume you, Soul Eater. The black blood will consume your soul."

"As if I'd let that happen. Now get out of here. Scram."

"As you wish," the little demon whispered, before fading away.

"Geez," Soul mumbled, sliding the shower curtain back into place. When Kid had said that Maka was his insanity trigger, he had not been wrong. Kid had called him a hazard whenever the black blood took over. And that was only the case if Maka was nearby. The shower slammed off and Soul though a towel around his waist.

Hot air escaped the steamy bathroom as Soul opened the door, quietly slinking out of the bathroom as his wet hair dripped on the floor. Blair was busying herself in front of the stove, humming a tune to herself as eggs sizzled in the pan. Soul inhaled deeply. It was time to commence part one of his plan to get Maka back.


	4. I Do It For You

"Hey Blair."

"Oh Soul! You're done!" Blair exclaimed. "Nyaaaaah~ the eggs aren't done yet!" she pouted.

"It's cool. I'm not hungry anyways," Soul answered. "Anyways, I've been thinking—."

"You finally wanna play with me!?" Blair interrupted.

Soul rolled his eyes. He had to be patient. "No, not what I was thinking," Soul answered flatly. "By why don't we take a trip to France? For vacation? To get away from Death City for a few days?"

"Nya! Soul! But weren't you just in France?" Blair asked with a cocked head.

"Yeah. But France is cool."

"When do we leave then?" she asked excitedly, clasping her hands together in anxiety.

"The first plane out of here," Soul grinned.

"Fun!" Blair winked. "Pum pumpkin pumpkin!" Blair called, pointing her finger towards her finger towards her bedroom.

"But Blair, I need you to order the tickets," Soul said.

"Nya?" Blair asked, clothes and items hovering in midair as her magic froze. "Why?"

"I lost my credit card," Soul shrugged. That was possibly the worst lie he had told in his life. He didn't even own a credit card.

"Well okay! If you say so my little scythe-y boy!" Blair winked, disappearing into her room. "I'll be ready in an hour, Souuuuul!"

"Okay!" he yelled back. "Cool," Soul exhaled, letting the towel fall as he locked his bedroom door behind him. Soul grabbed the nearest pair of boxers, which he assumed to be clean, and slipped them on. He had a few loose ends to tie up before leaving Death City, and hopefully with such a short notice trip, the DWMA would never find out.

As if on cue, Soul's phone pulsed with blue light, vibrating from his side table. Pants around his feet, Soul scrambled for the phone.

Sender: Kid

Text: Soul, meet me at the DWMA at 7 p.m. sharp for your new death scythe duties. Father wishes to speak with you, also.

Soul snorted, a smirk pulling at his cheek. By 7 p.m., he would be almost in France. The weapon tossed his phone, allowing it to bounce to safety on the bed. There wasn't much he needed, or wanted, to carry around France. A blue shirt slipped over Soul's head as he pulled it on. Soul set his black headphones on his head, hooking them up to his Ipod. He tossed a suit onto the bed. A black and yellow sweatshirt. Another pair of underwear. A shirt. Pants. A Headband. Soul sighed. Maka always told him to pack extra socks because he never knew when he would need them. Soul tossed socks onto his bed out of habit.

Soul's luggage was lazily stuffed into a backpack, as he tossed a toothbrush, toothpaste, and deoderant into the bag. "Blair!" Soul called, setting his bag by the door.

"I got the tickets!" she called happily through the door.

"Cool! Put them on the counter!"

"Okay my little scythe-y boy!"

"I'm heading out!" he called, swiping keys from the hook and sweatband off the counter.

The door slammed behind the weapon, and a voice broke through his thoughts.

"Where off to?" the little ogre cackled, following in its host's fast paced footsteps.

"Off to go see a wild blue-haired assassin, where else?" Soul answered in irritation, refusing to make eye contact with the black blooded nightmare.

"Oh, should you be driving in your condition?" the ogre asked as Soul swung a leg over his spotless orange motorcycle.

"You got a problem with me driving?" Soul asked, swinging the kickstand up with a foot.

"Well you're so mad with black blood. It would be a shame if you crashed now. Right before you see your little plan, wouldn't it, Soul?"

"Screw off," Soul mumbled, revving the engine threateningly on the motorbike.

"What would Maka think!" the red demon called as Soul pulled out into the street.

Soul slammed on the engine on the roaring motorcycle, disappearing down the road, the insanity in a suit disappearing along with him. The scythe brushed off his encounter with the black blood again. It wasn't a cool thing to keep thinking about.

Cool air whistled past Soul's ears, drying his damp hair in a matter of minutes, so by the time Soul swerved into Star's driveway, his hair had the same gravity defying swish it always had. Soul left his motorbike on the yard, sauntering across the yard to Black Star's dojo doorway. With a hand shoved in his pocket, Soul knocked on the door. No one answered. Soul rapped his knuckles against the door once more. Silence.

And then a hand wrapped around Soul's mouth, tugging him back into the bushes.


	5. Star Eyes

_Author's Note: So how you guys liking it? So far? Hopefully liking it… If there's any confusion about the plot line then I would suggest reading the prequel "A Missing Meister and a Woeful Weapon" because it gives good background as to how Soul got himself into this mess. But you don't have to. It's like a bonus. Kind of._

_Bonus Note Thingy: Can anyone guess what the names of the chapters are referencing? They all have one thing in common. :3_

A stinking smell curled over Soul's nose as he was tugged back into the bush, sickening him with its horrid order. "Ut uh ell!" he yelled through the assaulter's hand, tugging at the fingers around his mouth. Sharp teeth bit down on the stranger's hand and a familiar yelp sounded from behind Soul.

"Black Star?"

"Shush, Soul!" Black Star hushed rapidly, slapping two hands over his best friend's mouth.

"Star? Black Star?" A female voice called. "Where are you? I have rice balls ready!"

Black Star shifted in the bushes, keeping his friend's mouth closed, both the boys' eyes wide. Soul should have known. Tsubaki was allied with Kid. She wouldn't have let Soul leave Death City if she had found out. Stupid move, Soul.

Black Star squinted as he watched Tsubaki walk back inside. He had just finished 1000 manly push-ups and Tsubaki was trying to make him take a bath. Big men didn't take baths. Tsubaki said cleanliness was next to godliness, but he highly doubted that. Black Star wasn't the more literate human being, but there were definitely letters between C and G. Even still, since Black Star wanted to surpass the gods, he had to surpass cleanliness too!

"She's gone," Black Star breathed, sticking his head out of the bush.

"Not cool, man," Soul growled, shoving his hand away.

"Well a big star like me isn't taking a bath, man. Baths are for weak little babies," Black Star scoffed.

"Yeah, sure," Soul said, rolling his eyes.

"What are you even doing here anyways? Don't you have a meister you should be with?"

Soul stared at Black Star with a how-could-you-not-notice-what-happened-the-past-week face. "Seriously? Did you not hear?"

"I'm not stupid! I just don't keep up with the information of my underlings that's all."

"Yeah well Maka kind of got injured, and I'm infected with more black blood. Kid faked Maka's death and I'm not supposed to see her anymore."

"But you—."

"But I'm going to see her anyways."

"Well you don't need me to help you," Black Star huffed with a glare, folding his arms.

"That's kind of what I was here for," Soul said. "You gotta distract Kid for me, man. At 7 p.m. you got to go to the DWMA and fight Kid again."

"Fight that loser again? Pfft I've already beat the puny death god. Why would I need to do it again?"

"Because then Kid may come hunt me down when I'm gone and kick my ass. Come on Star only you can do this."

"Well I am a pretty big man," Black Star grinned. "And Maka is my friend. Even if she is a little emotional know it all sometimes."

"I owe you man. Thanks," Soul smiled, fist bumping his best friend.

"Consider it a favor. A big star like me has to give back to his weaker friends sometimes."

"Cool. I'll be leaving town in a few minutes, so take care."

"Yeah, Soul. Go get Maka back."

A red haze flickered through Soul's mind as Star said her name. Maka. The black blood was reacting again. Soul blinked quickly, and the colorful veil disappeared from his vision.

"Yeah. I'll do that," Soul said, hurriedly striding towards his bike. He had to get home. Fast. Before this whole ordeal became any worse. Was that sweat? Gross, he needed his sweatband soon too.

The engine of the motorcycle rumbled as Soul slammed down on the pedal, coasting away from Black Star's house, where a distant yahoo echoed in the distance. Black Star, you idiot.

And that was when Soul's phone started to vibrate.


End file.
